Page 1 of Two Chambered Heart

Chapter one

- Corey -

Corey Smith was trying to rewire a white Range Rover Sport with tinted windows in the bottom of an underground parking garage when she heard the slam of a heavy metal car door. She fumbled the wires for the fifth time, her heart skipping a beat from the sudden noise. A string of curses flashed through her head, but she didn’t dare open her mouth to whisper them out loud. She held her breath, counting the drops of water falling from her sodden trench coat onto the hard floor to calm her now thundering heart.

The clacking of heels echoing through the concrete told her she was no longer alone.

Sloppy, she admonished, rolling her eyes at herself. But she was soaking wet and hungry, and she hadn’t found anywhere halfway decent to sleep for more nights than she cared to count. She may have once been used to this, but it had been a while since she’d been on the streets for multiple nights in a row.

The sound of the stilettos faded, and theclick-clickof a closing interior door told her that the woman who had just interrupted her little escapade had gone inside. Corey counted to five in her head before loosing a longbreath and picking the two wires up again. She’d cut a square into the back side of the car to get to the wires inside, and she knew that if she sparked these two specific ones together just right, the car would unlock.

Finally, a small spark zipped from one wire to the other and back.

The soft sound of doors unlocking sent a jolt of pleasure through her, mingling with the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Corey sent a wordless thanks to whichever idiot had invented touch-start cars, and she opened the back door to the Range Rover, slipping into the back seat.

The blacked-out windows provided her complete protection from anyone coming and going, so she lowered her hood from her soaked head and pulled her arms out from the jacket with some effort. The saturated material clung to her as if begging to stay where it was. She hung it over the headrest from the front seat instead. Water still dripped from the coat, pooling on the maroon carpet floor of the SUV. She took off her running shoes next and shoved them under the front seat, giving her wet socks a chance to dry out.

Corey pulled her long, auburn hair to one side and wrung it out. Though she’d been scouting the car park all day, the underground was cold and damp. She’d been caught in that shitshow storm for three or maybe four days, and her trench coat was completely soaked through. But she needed to hold on to it. She needed the extra layer, even if wearing it made her feel like she was underwater.

Looking around in the dim light filtering through the darkened windows, Corey took stock of what was in the car. It was pristinely clean, though she may have expected that, as the exterior had also been in perfect condition, not a nick on it that she had seen. Well, not until she’d cut a cute little square into the rear. She did not want to be around when the owner of the vehicle found the damage, although it was probably some old rich man, half balding, and she could picture his face turning purple in rage.The image made her laugh, and she thought maybe shewouldwait to see the owner.

Although, she hadn’t seen anyone come to this vehicle the entire day. The tandem parking spot in front of the Range Rover housed two bright red motorcycles. Corey knew cars very well, but she didn’t know the first thing about motorcycles. The owners of the two bikes had come and gone and come and gone during the day while she waited behind the large dumpsters, watching the car for hours on end.

The riders had been two sizable men. They had entered and exited the car park, already wearing their helmets, so she hadn’t gotten a look at their features. The motorcycles were loud, and even she could tell that the roar of those engines were decidedly sporty and decidedly expensive.

All the cars in this underground were expensive. There was at least one convertible Maserati, Porsche SUVs, and Mercedes were a dime a dozen down here. Given that she was underneath a luxury condominium complex, Corey wasn’t surprised. This area of downtown was skyscraper after skyscraper, alternating between residential and corporate offices.

When she had seen the large garage door open on a vacant side street early this morning, and heard the souped-up Audi exiting, she had looked up to the 50-story building and made a snap decision.

In the thundering rain, she sprinted for the garage just as it was closing with her hood pulled tight over her head. No security had come down to check, and Corey had thanked the devil for finally getting a solid roof over her head.

Corey had chosen the Range Rover Sport, since they were notoriously easy to hot-wire as long as you could cut into the back—which she could, because she had a tool specifically for that. The other reason she’d picked this car was for the heavily blacked-out windows and tinted front windshield. She was pretty sure that tinted windshields were illegal, but who was she to judge? And lastly, no one had attended the car all day. From early morning to now, the car had remained undisturbed.

The red leather interior of the Range Rover was quite luxurious. Corey checked over the back row into the trunk, hoping to find something to keep her warm for the next few hours—a sweatshirt, a towel, a blazer—but all she saw was a long metal tuck box that took up the length of the back bench seats. She hopped into the trunk to try to open it, but it was locked by a fancy electronic mechanism with a fingerprint reader.

There was nothing else there.

Corey sighed and pulled herself back over to the bench seats. She didn’t think she’d ever boosted a car that had literally nothing in it before. Usually, fancy cars had all kinds of goodies that she could take and sell later or keep for her own use. But there was no water bottle in the cup holder, no umbrella behind the driver’s seat—there wasn’t even garbage in the side doors. The front centre console was locked with the same fingerprint reader. Shitty, but at least the car was dry, and for the next few hours, she was safe. At least, as safe as someone could be when they were sleeping in someone else’s car.

Corey set the alarm on her digital watch for 4:30 a.m. She felt that would be a good time on a weekday to leave the vehicle. No one started work that early in a place like this.

She knew she was making a lot of assumptions, but after a few years living on and off on the streets, she had studied and learned the behaviour of different demographics. She had also learned that there were always outliers, and that sometimes, people behaved in a way that took her completely by surprise.

But for the most part, people were predictable. And that predictability had saved her ass more times than people’s unexpected behaviour had gotten her into trouble, so those odds were good enough for her. Corey wished she could stretch out across the back seat, but she was not a short girl, so she laid on her side, pulled her knees up into her chest and used her arm as pillow. She tried to think about nothing, and waited for the bone-deep exhaustion that lived in her to pull her into sleep.

Chapter two

- Corey -

Corey woke up with a start to the sound of muffled voices. Shadows darkened the windows at the passenger and driver’s seats. It was only because of the blacked-out windows that whoever was outside hadn’t discovered her presence yet.Shit. Fuck. Shit.Corey was so screwed. Her digital watch was beeping repeatedly from her wrist. A lot of good it did for her. She shut the alarm off. The low vibrato of it had been no match for how tired she was. Her watch told her it was 8:00 a.m. Corey considered her options quickly—she could leave the car and bolt, or try to hide in the back of the car. She’d likely be stuck in the car park anyway if she tried to leave now.

Corey grabbed her trench coat from the headrest and dove for the floor of the backseat. She tossed the jacket over her body and silently cursed herself for oversleeping. The carpet was still damp from the mess she’d made before, but at least the coat wasn’t dripping anymore.

She heard both front doors open and close, and the smell of sage, cedar and musk filled the car as the two men got into their seats.

“Dude, did you shower?” she heard the man in the driver’s seat ask. “It smells like wet dog in here.” His voice was icy. Corey’s heart thumped so loudly that she was surprised the men in the front didn’t hear it.

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